Bold Steps
by Evelyn Mavelle
Summary: She tries to get his attention, but she has no idea that she has it. [Hatori Sohma x Rhiannon Young]
1. She's Got Bright Blue Eyes

**(I just grabbed bits of a roleplay my friend and I have doing for several years. So I decided to mix it up a little to form a little story! Yes, I know there are non-canons in this story, but give it a shot! xD I'm sure you'll enjoy it! Wow, I feel like I'm doing a commercial or something. o.o Anyway! All the credit should go to my best friend Iso-chan:D Hope you enjoy it!)**

****

**Chapter One**

"It turned out to be a pretty good movie, a lot of hard work and  
everything. You know, that's what it takes is a little perseverance  
and you get amazing results."

Lies.

"Well, thanks for taking this interview. You look beautiful tonight  
and congratulations on your new movie."

They always do.

Rhiannon Young sighed as she flipped off the blaring television –  
the channel that she had been watching before the large television  
flicked off was MTV or something like that – she didn't exactly care  
at the moment – leave it to her to be interested in a channel but  
not know what it is. Once the television was off for a few seconds  
she tossed the remote onto the couch and stood up – stretching out  
her arms as she glanced lazily around the living room. It was  
usually silent, just like the rest of the large house that belonged  
to Hatori Sohma. Speaking of the middle aged doctor – he was never  
home – usually at work or out on dates these days. It was rather  
boring without him around, Rhiannon usually thought; she had no one  
to talk to. Rin was usually off with Edward making it rather hard  
for the blonde to go see her friend – she didn't like feeling like a  
third wheel – though that feeling had been attached to her a lot  
lately.

Once she was about to walk into the kitchen she heard the front door  
open, out of reflex she raised her fists but then heard laughter.  
Her arms lowered down to her sides as she peeked curiously around  
the corner to see Jean and Hatori – curiosity had struck her. Was  
Hatori laughing? He probably was seeing as him and Jean were such  
good friends – and because of that they decided to start a  
relationship. How lovely. Rhiannon raised a brow, her two toned  
irises of dark blue and light blue stared at the woman and at the  
man. She felt like a little kid huddling behind a corner watching  
her parents share a hug and kiss.

Hatori took notice of Rhiannon in the corner, but refused to say  
anything. Smiling lightly toward Jean as she laughed, it was good to  
be reunited with the woman he went to college with. He still  
couldn't believe that she somehow managed to predict him being in  
Japan, of course it was his hometown, but his occupation just seemed  
to have moved him out country or state (Depending if its in the US).

"Oh," Jean began, looking up. Her gaze caught Rhiannon's almost  
instantly. "Hello there, Rhi!" She spoke with a cheerfulness that  
made the seventeen year old want to barf. Though she faked a smile  
and strode out from around the corner – eyes focused intently on  
Jean.

"Hi." She said plainly, doing her best to hide the utter distaste  
she felt for the woman standing in front of her looking so happy.  
The blonde haired girl couldn't help but feel a light twinge of  
jealously for reasons she could not exactly comprehend. "So  
umm . . ." Rhiannon began, she didn't exactly know how to talk to  
couples who had just gotten off a date – it was kind of weird in her  
opinion because they were usually all lovey dovey and crap. "How was  
the date?" She asked, awkwardly, raising up her slim hand to wipe a  
few blonde tresses from her face.

Rhiannon was quite an attractive young woman, being at the tender  
age of seventeen she had come to value clothes and how she looked.  
Her hair was a dirty blonde sometimes looking brown (she hated the  
blonde jokes that she usually received so on the days her hair  
looked light brown she didn't get quite as many) – it was odd  
because in middle school she used to have pale blonde hair. Odd  
things happen when you're growing up. At the moment she was wearing  
simple red Abercrombie pajama pants with the logo of their moose  
printed upon it, and a white Abercrombie tank top to go along with  
it. Her blonde tresses were tied up in a messy bun causing some  
strands to fall and frame her face – she looked like the typical  
teenaged compared to Mr. Suit Wearing Doctor Hatori and Ms.  
Professional Jean. It was almost embarrassing in a sense but she  
choose to ignore the nagging feeling that had become apparent in her  
stomach.

"It was so much fun! Hatori can be so funny sometimes, you know!"  
Jean grinned cheekily as she laced her arm around Hatori's causing  
Rhiannon to twitch ever so slightly. Hatori and funny didn't belong  
in the same sentence was all Rhiannon could think. Honestly, who was  
this Jean woman kidding? "You should hear some of the jokes that he  
tells, Rhi! He's so hilarious. Makes me love him even more!" A few  
more laughs escaped her lip stick coated lips making Rhiannon twitch  
even more.

Listening to the comments Jean made, made him keep that ever-  
so-rare smile. His indigo eyes travel to the opposing side of the  
house. Everything seemed to have been clean. TV was left on, but  
clean either way. Whenever he would come home, he'd expect some sort  
of mess from the blonde who was talking to his current girlfriend.

No, I don't know.' The blonde thought to herself venomously.

Hatori doesn't joke around. He was a dead serious doctor who wore  
suits twenty four seven and so on. Unless Hatori was a serious party  
animal and Rhiannon has just been missing something over the few  
months that she has lived with him. Her eyes narrowed, "Is that so?"  
She pondered aloud; her French manicured nail touched the bottom of  
her pale pink lip as if in thought. She honestly couldn't understand  
what was going on – Hatori seemed so grave around her and to hear  
Jean ramble on about how funny he was was definitely a surprise to  
the young teenager.

"Of course, you know . . . I wouldn't make these things up!" Jean  
said with a grin, she stood on her tip toes and gave Hatori a quick  
kiss on the cheek. "You know, Rhi, you're pretty lucky to be living  
with him!" She added, still keeping that grin upon her  
face. "Hatori, do you mind if I stay for dinner? I could cook if  
you'd like! Ever since I've gotten out of college I've taken a  
liking to cooking, it's a rather interesting challenge."

The blonde haired teen nearly choked on her saliva – great, now the  
woman would be staying for dinner because she knew for a fact Hatori  
would just love to have his girlfriend stay over. She nearly scoffed  
but held back the urge. She didn't like Jean and she had no clue  
why. It was odd because Jean seemed like the perfect smart and  
pretty girlfriend that every guy wanted – Rhiannon on the other hand  
was rather stubborn, had the looks but not the most winning  
personality due to all the years on the streets. She eyed Jean for a  
moment longer, a small sigh emitted from her lips but she doubted  
anyone would catch it; she didn't want either of them – especially  
Hatori – to see her disdain.

Before his mind could drift, Rhiannon's tone caught his  
attention. Of course, he recognized when she didn't like something.  
It was easy to tell, considering her expression. Looking over to  
Jean, who looked overjoyed for some reason that was beyond him, he  
nodded lightly. Just because Rhi was disdainful toward Jean, he  
wasn't going to back down at something he would like to do. Not  
going to happen. "Of course you can." His tone was mild, not all  
hardcore lack of emotion like his usual tone is.

Hearing Hatori agree to Jean staying over didn't at all surprise  
Rhiannon – but she made no protest – there was no point because it  
was his house and she respected that much. Seeing him smile was a  
rare thing for the blonde, and he rarely smiled around her. She  
would sometimes desperately try to say something that would be  
considered funny but not even a hint of happiness could be traced on  
his expression. It hurt that her efforts rarely produced any  
results – she at least wanted to make the middle aged doctor a bit  
happy but it would seem as if Jean was doing that rather  
effortlessly.

His gaze set somewhat on Rhi, he was expecting a complaint  
toward Jean, but when she seemed to mention making dinner, she  
didn't muster a word. Ignoring Jean for a few minutes, his attention  
was put on Rhi, "So, how did your day go?" He asked considerably  
with a hint of a smile.

"Oh," she began, surprised that the conversation had suddenly turned  
over to her. "My day was fine. I didn't have to work so I just sat  
around and watched television. Nothing interesting, honestly."  
Rhiannon shrugged her shoulders, she was about to add probably  
nothing compared to your fun day' but she didn't in fear of sounding  
rather snotty. If she was in a bad mood then a few unneeded words  
would have escaped her lips but she didn't even want to bother at  
the moment. The fight was just never worth it. "Thanks for asking!"  
She added rather quickly, a bright happy smile tracing her features.

"Hatori told me you worked at a bar, Rhi," Jean spoke up, narrowing  
her eyes but not in displeasure just in curiosity. "That's a rather  
shady place for a girl your age, you know! I mean, surely you should  
be attending high school . . . or you could always pass off as a  
model. You have such interesting eyes!" The woman quickly realized  
that she sounded much like a nagging parent, and her carefree  
personality usually blocked such behavior – though she couldn't help  
but state her opinion. "Or you could get a boyfriend! One of my  
coworkers has a son about your age – he's quite the charmer and I  
don't know if this appeals to kids your age but . . . he's one of  
those Italian boys. Tall dark and handsome. I know that always  
appealed to me when I was seventeen."

Rhiannon let a few laughs escape her lips – she could easily admit  
that Jean was quite the outgoing woman and some of the things she  
said were kind of funny. She just didn't understand how she and  
Hatori were in love – it was so odd to her and she couldn't exactly  
understand why. "Thanks for worrying but I can handle it. It's a  
high class bar as my boss likes to put it, and anyways I get to play  
the piano and sometimes sing – something I love doing, - so I don't  
mind. I even get paid. Well . . . that's rather obvious." She kept  
that bright smile on her face – she preferred her job over a lot of  
other things she could have become – and anyways, her check wasn't  
that bad for a high school dropout.

"Tall, dark and handsome?" She nearly snorted – that sort of guy  
didn't really appeal to her – but it was just the way Jean had put  
it that made her snicker. "Let me guess . . . his name is Mario?  
Though back to the point – that type of guy never appealed to me.  
The girl I used to be friends with in middle school said that I'd  
probably end up dating a man who is like I dunno . . . around ten  
years older than me – oh and she didn't forget to add that he'd be  
tall, rich and dorky looking. Then I told her she'd probably marry  
some mafia boss. So, we were even." Rhiannon remembered that memory  
almost like it was yesterday – such odd conversations she had when  
she was twelve years old. It was almost scary just remembering it.

"Thanks though, I'll keep that in mind." She quickly added in  
regards to the Italian person who Jean was trying to set her up  
with – of course Rhiannon knew she'd forget by tomorrow – though she  
had only said it for the sake of being polite. If Rin wasn't so  
interesting in Mr. Atheist I'd refer Mario right over to her – I bet  
she likes those kinds of guys.' Rhiannon smiled lightly in thoughts  
to herself at the thought of her best friend and her odd' interest  
in guys (though the blonde only thought of this as odd because her  
tastes in guys were much more different than her best friend's).

Jean nodded in her head, causing her shoulder length light auburn  
brownish to bounce lightly. "So, about dinner!" She automatically  
piped up, glancing to her boyfriend and then to the teenager. "Is  
there anything you'd like me to make, Rhi?" Jean asked, it was  
rather obvious that the woman was trying to stay on the blonde's  
good side – Hatori sometimes would speak of some instances where  
Jean was glad that she didn't have to deal with the blonde. Though  
at the moment Rhiannon seemed like a kind humorous average teenager,  
it was hard to believe that she had once lived on the streets.

"Well, Jean, I'm glad you asked!" The other girl said eagerly,  
keeping her gaze away from Hatori due to the content of her next set  
of words. "Anything that isn't green and at one time was in a  
field." She couldn't help herself; someone had to say those words!  
That someone happened to be Ms. Rhiannon Young.

"In other words . . . vegetables, right?" Jean snickered, glancing  
at Hatori; because she knew for a fact that her boyfriend was the  
cause for Rhiannon's reply.

The seventeen year old looked away ever so innocently as if in  
attempt to take back her words, she was quite thankful for the fact  
that Hatori cooked for her but honestly . . . stir fry every night  
was not a healthy diet. "Well yeah, basically. No offense, Hatori! I  
mean, I'm still your home slice but . . . a change is nice, you  
know?" She grinned dismissively at the doctor – hoping he'd take no  
offense to her words.

**(What do you think? Please tell me:O It's the only way you're going to find out what happens next! xD )**


	2. Let The Hurricane Set in Motion

**Every other chapter, there will be a chapter that goes back into the past, so you can understand Rhiannon's character a bit more and the way she grew up! so I hope you enjoy it! ))**

**_Flash Back_**

**_

* * *

_**

It had been Christmas time. The merriest time of the year where gifts  
were exchanged, get-togethers were arranged, and other festivities  
were held on the day that never ceased to bring people together but  
only to break them apart when the day ended. It was one day in the  
year, a day that shined with meaning and caused people to rejoice in  
praise for it was the day their holy father was born. Jesus Christ.  
That was the case in the broad faith of Christianity anyone of any  
other faith scowled on Christmas for it didn't mean a thing to them.  
It was a merry time for some and a waste of time for others. Overall  
it was a day where a man was born who, in the end, died. To some it  
was a cursed day, to others it was simply December twenty fifth and  
anyone born on that day was bound to have an interesting fate.

"Rachel, how could you wake up late? If Anna catches us up she'll go  
on and on asking why isn't Santa bringing the presents!" Michael Young  
said in a tense whisper as he walked down old creaky wooden stairs  
slowly, being cautious not to make much noise as he did so, but the  
attempt had failed which caused the creaking to amount more  
apparently. "Argh . . . I'm so tired. We spent all last night going to  
church and watching the Christmas Story . . . a movie I've seen about  
fifty thousand times. If only Santa were real there'd be less work to  
do." The middle-aged man muttered groggily as he ran a large hand  
through his short lightly curled brown hair, clearly showing that he  
was annoyed.

A twenty eight year old woman, Rachel Young, rolled her eyes as she  
tightened her silk maroon robe around her figure, irises with the hue  
of mocha traveled around the dark room before she flicked on the light  
switch giving the well accented space a sense of illumination to push  
away the darkness of the early morning. "Oh hush. If she's a good girl  
she'll stay in bed. If she takes a peek then she won't get any  
presents. Simple as that." Her tone was cold as she presented her old  
method of punishment, causing her husband to wince lightly. "Why are  
you just standing there?" The woman snapped lightly, her back turned  
to Michael as she opened the blinds revealing the dark early morning.  
"Go make the coffee! Now." Rachel turned on her heel to face her  
husband, eyes narrowed and her milk chocolate hued bob of hair swayed  
slightly at the sudden movement. The man nodded, scuttling off into  
the kitchen quickly to attend to the wants of his equally groggy  
impatient wife.

Blankets of pure white snow covered the vicinity which was known as  
Astoria, New York. A small town which rested idly outside the tourist  
attraction city known as Albany, and it was safe to say that Astoria  
was in the shadows of the bustling beautiful city. The small town had  
various beautiful suburban homes and everyone seemed to know each  
other. Lawns and landscape crafted to perfection, kids were usually  
out playing, and parents watched with proud expressions on their  
faces. It was the type of town anyone would want to grow up in, it was  
small but relaxing and had an atmosphere that drew one in and caused  
them to crave for simplicity with a dash of perfection.

Rachel hummed lightly as she walked to the wooden front door with  
three glass lines placed strategically in the middle giving hint to  
some visibility. "I wonder if the paper came today . . . ." She asked  
herself aloud, her brow furrowed as she grasped the cold brass door  
handle. Goosebumps ran up her tanned arms which caused the woman to  
come to the conclusion that a silk robe just wouldn't do on such a  
bitterly frigid morning. She pushed the door opened and her gaze  
snapped down once the cold air bit her bare skin, her teeth chattered  
lightly, eyes anticipating a roll of paper that wasn't there, instead  
there was something else. Something entirely different. Rachel's  
almond shape eyes widened as she spotted what was in front of her door  
on the snow covered porch. Her red lips parted, but nothing escaped  
for a few seconds, perhaps even longer. Shock washed itself over her  
features, and the grogginess she once felt was now long gone.

"M-Michael . . . come quick!" Her voice wavered as she raised one of  
her hands to cover her agape mouth; the voice she took had barely been  
a whisper, a panicked whisper. "Micheal!" She screeched loud enough  
for her husband to hear her from the depths of the kitchen. The aroma  
of coffee reached her nostrils but she paid no mind, her eyes still  
rested upon the bundle in front of her doorstep. "There's a baby on  
the doorstep!" Her arms quivered lightly as she kneeled down and  
picked up the bundled up infant who stirred lightly but didn't wake.  
At the sound of her voice Micheal rushed into the room, and then let  
out a few nervous chuckles once he laid his eyes on Rachel's back.

"Jokes this early aren't funny. Especially those kinds of jokes. You  
know how gullible I am." His voice dripped with a forced patience, but  
once his wife turned around revealing the sleeping baby in her arms  
the jaw that had been contained now fell agape much like his wife's  
had moments ago. "Oh my Lord! There is a baby!" Panicking, the man  
looked around frantically, trying to search for some possible clues.  
"How did it get here? Maybe it's just a doll, you know those teenagers  
they like to play gam–. . . ." A slip of paper caught the male's eyes,  
causing him to stop mid-sentence, he quickly walked over to it and  
picked the cold slip of paper into his now shaking hands. He hoped, no  
he prayed, that when he opened the slip of paper up it would say `Ha  
ha, old man!' The folded paper was quickly opened by shaking hands and  
Michael's eyes inched left to right over and over again, taking in the  
small amount of cursive delicate writing that was before him.

"Well, what does it say?" Rachel had asked tensely, she cradled the  
little baby in her arms, and before she knew it the little baby opened  
her eyes. The little infant stared up at Rachel, looking fascinated; a  
smile graced the soft features as a few giggles escaped. That was a  
good sign that it was at least healthy, the state of mind that the  
shocked woman took when she stared back at the baby. Not yet realizing  
what beautiful eyes it possessed.

Michael gulped, anxiety took over, he just couldn't believe something  
like this was happening. "I-It s-says . . ." he began, a light stutter  
gracing his voice. "Rhiannon Elenore Kaila . . . born on December  
twenty fifth, Christmas day . . . a child of God. Please . . . take .  
. . care . . . of her." His gaze meant his wife once he finished his  
last drawled on sentence, they stayed silent, both unsure whether or  
not what to say or what to do. The man finally let out a sigh, shaking  
his head once he finally realized what look Rachel was actually giving  
him. "Yes, I know." Defeat reigned in his voice, he couldn't argue  
with keeping the baby on a day such as Christmas, especially when it  
came to a baby born on that holy day. "We have to keep it."

That was the morning, the beginning of it all. Most importantly, it  
was the day that Rhiannon Elenore Kaila Young was born.


	3. Dreams of an Innocent Girl

- T h r e e Y e a r s L a t e r -

"Everything seems to be great. Vitals are healthy; mentality seems to  
be healthy as well . . . ." A male doctor flipped pages over a  
polished dark wooden clipboard, eyes that were shielded with large  
glasses shifted from right to left. "All appropriate shots have been  
given." He added with a nod before flipping all the pages previously  
turned over back to their rightful side, he shifted his gaze up to the  
woman standing in front of him, a smile gracing his forty eight year  
old features. "Little Rhiannon is perfectly healthy for a girl her  
age. Though, she seemed a little shy when I asked her questions, every  
kid that age is though. My little girl was the same way." He chuckled  
lightly as he set the clipboard upon his desk, averting his train of  
thought back to the woman with the brown bob standing in front of him.  
"Any questions or concerns, Mrs. Young?" The man asked, doing his duty  
as a doctor making sure that every base that needed to be touched was  
touched on.

Rachel Young, not looking much different then she had three years ago  
except a few settle signs that she was now just as middle-aged as her  
husband. "Why yes, I do." She spoke firmly and curtly, tucking a  
strand of hair behind her medium sized ear. "Her accent . . . I'm well  
aware that it's British mixed in with something else, which I don't  
know, but . . . is that normal? She lives in America, and has been  
here ever since she was born. You'd think she'd have a voice like the  
rest of us." She bit her bottom lip revealing a line of pearly white  
teeth.

The doctor nodded his head as he leaned against the desk, crossing his  
arms in a casual manner. "A very good question." He said kindly,  
taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes before placing them back  
upon the bridge of his straight nose. "You see, accents can actually  
be genetic. This is a fact lost within assumption that if you're born  
in a certain place then you will automatically take on the type of  
voice everyone else around you has. That is usually the case, but  
accents are genetic as well and when they're genetic it is impossible  
to change. If the parents have strong accents in their own genes then  
it will no doubt pass onto the child. Oh and you mentioned something  
about her accent having something else mixed in, I noticed that too."  
The man paused for a moment, as if trying to think of something. "My  
father in law's stepdaughter is German and she had a much similar  
accent to Rhiannon's except, of course, taking away the dominating  
British part. It is not my job to assume so I will leave it at that."

The explanation seemed good enough for the young woman as she spared  
a small nod, taking in the words that he spoke to find any flaws that  
didn't make sense, in the end Rachel found nothing. Something that  
should be very well expected from a doctor, for an imperfection that  
they could make could lead to death or inaccuracy. "I have one more  
question." Rachel said plainly, glancing to the doctor who looked her  
straight in the eye to prove that he was paying attention. "Her eyes.  
They're beautiful but they look as if someone slapped two different  
colored contacts in. Obviously there has to be something wrong if her  
eyes are two different colors and the shades of blue look unnatural."  
She sighed, thinking of how many times she would steal glances at her  
daughter's precious eyes. Her left iris a striking bright pristine  
blue and her right iris a dark ocean blue which made a strikingly  
beautiful yet cryptic combination.

At the woman's words the doctor nodded his head, something he did very  
often. Reaching for his clipboard he flipped the attached pages to a  
precise page. "Your daughter has a severe case of heterochromia." He  
looked up to see Rachel's frightened expression. "It's a disease in  
the iris that causes the pigments to shift at different times thus  
creating two different colors. Now, in minor heterochromia the iris  
usually takes on two natural colors like perhaps a dark green and a  
gray blue, but in Rhiannon's case, since she has severe heterochromia  
the pigments create unnatural `contact' looking colors." After the  
doctor spoke he closed his clipboard and set it gently back onto his  
desk. "However, heterochromia can spread to the retina and cornea and  
cause blindness. There is a very small, one to one thousand chance of  
that happening, but when there is a severe case you must always be  
cautious. At her age, it is nothing to worry about."

Soon words of thanks and goodbyes were exchanged before Rachel exited  
out the office, a sigh escaped her lips from relief knowing that her  
daughter was indeed healthy despite her diagnosis of severe  
heterochromia, but the doctor said it wouldn't pose as a threat so she  
decided not to hang onto worry much longer. A moment was spent  
checking out and then her slim black nylon adorned legs carried her  
into the waiting room where her husband, Micheal Young, was waiting  
with a little pale blonde girl who was playing with a random toy  
truck. Once she saw her mother she snapped her gaze up, a toothy grin  
was shown as she stood up and rushed over to the woman. "Mummy!" She  
cried out, her accent blocked the `o' out and created a `u' instead. A  
couple people in the office glanced at the little girl, surprised by  
the way she sounded.

Micheal pointed to the restroom once his daughter made her way over to  
his wife; Rachel caught his gesture and nodded her head before smiling  
down at the adopted daughter who still thought of Rachel as her birth  
mother despite the many differences they obviously held. Once Micheal  
was inside the bathroom Rachel took her daughter's hand, still smiling  
down at her, about to say something until the young girl eagerly  
interrupted. "Guess what, mummy? That guy asked me tons of weird  
things! Like my favorite color, I told him pink because pink is  
awesome and prettyful!" She slipped her pale hand out of her mother's  
and curled two of her fingers on each hand into circles as she placed  
them over her eyes. "He also had huge things around his eyes! Like  
this! I thought he was an alien!" Rachel smiled at her daughter,  
watching her hop around for a moment, her long pale blonde hair  
bounced and those beautiful irises sparkled amorously. "What was he,  
anyways, mummy?" Rhiannon asked, that toothy grin diminished into a  
look of curiosity.

"A doctor, sweetheart. He helps people." The mother answered her  
daughter, smiling down at her. Seconds later Micheal exited the  
restroom, putting on his coat and telling Rhiannon to hold out her  
arms so he could put on her puffy pink jacket and cute homemade  
mittens courtesy of Rachel. The three of them walked out of the door,  
Micheal holding firmly onto his daughter's small three year old aged  
hand as they ventured to their car.

"Really? I want to help people! I shall become a doctor too! The best  
of the best!" She grinned that toothy grin, determination showed not  
only in her expression but in posture as well. Her childlike naivety  
covered the truth of what it would take to become a doctor, but a  
three year old never did take such factors into consideration. They  
had the state of mind that they could do anything, and Rhiannon was no  
different, she had the confidence of the world only because she barely  
knew what the world really was. "I'll even wear those thingies!" She  
said, referring the doctor's large glasses. Rachel giggled and Micheal  
gave her a look, not sure as to what she was talking about. He wasn't  
sure he could ever get used to Rhiannon's goofy demeanor and random  
words, even if she was only at the age of three.


	4. Learning New Things

- T w o Y e a r s L a t e r: July 9th, 1995 –

"Rhiannon, sweetheart." Rachel cooed gently as she motioned her hand  
to her daughter silently telling the little girl to come over to her.  
The strict mother sat regally upon a rather worn looking green couch  
in the living room which also possessed a matching green leather  
material chair that sat idle across from the couch, with a big screen  
television that was currently switched off in the corner of the small  
box shaped room. The whole room had been silent but in the other room  
Rhiannon, now five years old, and her older brother by three years had  
been playing freeze tag. In attempt to get away Rhiannon had ran into  
the living room, breathing heavily, her long straight pale blonde  
tresses bounced and swayed with each quick step she took. Like a deer  
that was being caught in headlights she stopped and locked eyes with  
her mother, assuming that she had done something wrong when she heard  
the woman call her over. Rhiannon knew very well that playing a game  
in the house was forbidden on Rachel's standards but her and Adam  
partook in the frowned upon activity anyways.

The little girl's breaths evened out as she quickly skipped over to  
her mother, the white puffy sleeve summer dress that Rhiannon wore  
flipped lightly with each stride she took. Rhiannon's large childish  
eyes widened when her mother had lifted her up onto her lap. "It's all  
of Adam's fault! He made me play!" That was Rhiannon's attempt in  
making it seem as if playing freeze tag wasn't her idea, it really  
wasn't but she liked the game and had taken part in it none the less.  
Her mother raised a brow, and gently shook her head. "It's true!" The  
girl defended her `theory' once she caught sight of her mother's  
disdainful expression, flailing her arms to animate her words in the  
most childish fashion.

At the age of five Rhiannon was quite active, she was mostly outside  
playing with her eight year old brother Adam, and when she wasn't  
outside she would be inside taking piano and Russian language classes  
with her tutor or as of at the moment: playing inside when she and her  
brother weren't allowed to. The tutor was an old Russian woman who was  
strict and thought that everything should be perfect, and Rhiannon  
showed everything but perfection though the vibrant little girl  
portrayed a heavy dose of promise none the less, which was the reason  
why the Russian woman continued on with her teachings. Rhiannon hadn't  
been good at much else other than being able to play the piano and  
singing; she was only five but could still play various songs and sing  
along with them in almost fluent Russian. Something that Rachel's  
biological kids couldn't do, which made the woman somewhat  
disheartened and proud at the same time.

Mocha hued irises that Rachel possessed sparkled off the sunlight but  
dulled lightly when she turned her head away from Rhiannon and away  
from the rays of illumination. She inhaled deeply before exhaling, a  
clear sign that she was stalling from what was about to be said. After  
staying silent for no more than a second longer Rachel turned her gaze  
back to her daughter, smiling lightly as she did so. "There's  
something I have to tell you . . . something important." She stalled  
once more, biting the inside of her cheek due to being horribly  
nervous. Rachel never thought she'd ever have to tell her five year  
old daughter that she was adopted, but despite her husband's  
disagreement on the matter she was going to go along and say it.  
Rhiannon couldn't go through life thinking that they were her real  
parents! Or so, that is the logic that Rachel possessed. "You're  
adopted." Blunt words quickly escaped her lips, more straightforward  
than understanding, but Rachel didn't seem to take this into mind.  
There was nothing else to be said.

The five year old blinked, not sure what her mother meant by  
`adopted', was it good? Was it bad? Rhiannon's lips parted, about to  
ask what being adopted meant but her mother knew all too well what the  
young girl was about to say and quickly spoke up. "Being adopted means  
that I'm not your real mother, and your father isn't your real father.  
Though, Rhiannon, we still love you with all of our hearts and think  
of you as a real daughter . . . it's just, well, I can't lie to you.  
I'm sure when you get older you'll understand!" Rachel rambled  
lightly, knowing very well that she herself was trying to cover up her  
previously blunt spoken words. "Your mother made a mistake . . .  
dropping you on our doorstep on Christmas day five years ago. I don't  
think she realized or even bothered to think about what a cute little  
girl you would turn out to be!"

Her words at first were met by a silence, a silence that was beginning  
to make the mother nervous as she stared down at the little girl.  
Rhiannon averted her gaze in thought for a moment before meeting her  
mother's once more, she may have been five but she understood every  
word that had came from her mother. She had explained it after all and  
Rhiannon wasn't that dense to not realize what the woman was talking  
about. "Oh . . . umm, okay!" She said, a grin coming to her lips. "I  
think I get it!" The young girl was quick to add. "Don't worry, mummy,  
I love you with all of my heart too." Before any other words were  
spoken between the mother and daughter a little boy who hadn't looked  
a day over the age of eight raced into the room. Matching mocha  
colored irises which he and Anna received from their mother sparkled  
with the carefree attitude a youth should have and nicely cut dark  
brown hair was ruffled due to extensive activity.

"There you are, Rhi! I've been lookin' for you!" Adam Young said,  
balancing a basketball in his hand, a toothy grin on his face. "I  
challenge you to a game of basketball! It's July ninth which means  
it's my lucky day! Prepared to beat!" The little boy adored his little  
sister, she was much preferred over his serious perfectionist older  
sister, and even though Rhiannon wasn't that great at athletic games  
she was still fun to play with even to an eight year old boy who was  
probably the only one who thought that of her. Adam never really paid  
attention to Rhiannon's accent or that she was adopted, he liked the  
way she said his name anyways. With her accent interfering it came out  
sounding like "Ah-damn" which was funny to anyone over the age of  
fourteen because it sounded like someone accidentally saying a profanity.

Rhiannon jerked lightly out of surprise as she turned to face her  
older brother. She quickly hopped off her mother's lap, the expression  
on her face was nothing less than cheerful –it was as if she didn't  
even take into account what her mother had said– and buoyant. "No!  
July ninth is the new doomsday!" With that she raced out of the room,  
not before turning to her mother a strand of blonde hair flying in her  
face. Rachel in no time quickly noticed the look in those beautiful  
eyes: they were blank. Though that blankness only lasted a second  
before Rhiannon tore her gaze away and chased after her brother,  
"You're on little man!" She giggled at her words, knowing very well  
that she was the little five year old and he was the older eight year  
old. Such a comment was always something to be expected from Rhiannon.

"I'm not little!" Adam said in his own defense before a few words that  
centered around his determination escaped. Rachel let out a small sigh  
as the sound of the back door slamming against its wooden frame was  
heard, it was safe to say that she felt better that the whole  
conversation was over but she suddenly felt as if it was wrong to tell  
a five year old little girl that she was adopted because she was  
placed upon a doorstep on Christmas Day; but it was much too late now,  
that much was clearly obvious. When Micheal would return home Rachel  
knew he'd be quite angered seeing as he wanted Rhiannon to believe  
that they were her real parents, but she wasn't that worried about her  
husband in the long-term. It was the one person in that family who  
hated Rhiannon with a passion and the person that Rachel was so  
worried about was her eldest and only biological daughter: Anna. 


End file.
